Broken Pieces
by ChihiroAyasato
Summary: Mia Fey returns to her apartment along with Armando after her first ever case and him insisting that he drive her despite his injured hand.  What further troubles await them?


_Clank, click, clank_

The sounds came from the kitchen, and echoed dully in Mia's ears. She closed her eyes and willed them to go away. But was that possible?

Could you really turn back time to before the trial began and when the white mug was still intact and not painfully cut into his hands?

Could you really have saved him, even when he willingly drank the deadly liquid from that tiny and seemingly insignificant bottle?

Could you really have won against the demoness, even if you tried again?

No.

Mia's heart plummeted and she felt another teardrop slide down her already wet cheek. She wished she really could turn back time, but that was impossible.

The urge to just fall back onto the bed she was standing against and push her head into the pillows left her. She straightened up and walked towards the kitchen.

_clank... _

"ARGH!"

_...clank_

"Damn mug...it was my favourite one too..."

"M-Mr. Armando?"

He turned his pained face around to look at her, and his expression brightened considerably.

"Finally stopped casting depressing clouds into the air, Kitten?"

"Your...h-hand... Is it alright?" she managed.

Both heads turned to the deep wounds cut into the flesh. Mia felt a surge of guilt in the pits of her stomach. It was technically her fault that his hand was like that.

He seemed to be able to read her mind.

"I chose to crush that mug out of my own anger, Kitten. It had nothing to do with you."

"Why do you still insist that I didn't get us into this mess?" Her voice was strangely indignant and more tears welled up in her eyes.

"Because you didn't. End of story." His tone showed that the conversation was very much over.

_clank_

"Ah, that should be the last of them." The defence attorney admired his wretched hand and then gazed down at the full wastebasket holding the bloody pieces of the mug.

"Hmm, it's almost as if I decided to dye my coffee mug red, failed horribly and then smashed it into the wall," he tried to joke.

Diego Armando felt a pressure at the side of his shoulder and turned again back to her. She was holding a jar or some sort of ointment and bandages with a timid, yet determined look upon her face.

"Kitten, you don't have to..."

"Hold out your hand, Mr. Armando."

He reluctantly complied, and winced slightly as the ointment met his wounds and stung bitterly. The soft and non compressive feeling he felt as it was continuously wrapped around his hand allowed him to notice how she was trying her hardest to do this gently. Mia finished her handiwork and held it close, applying light pressure to certain parts of it.

"W-what are you doing?" he asked, amused.

"Just checking if you still have feeling in your hand." Her voice was quiet. "...Do you?"

"Nah, can't feel anything." He clutched it tragically. "Must have cut a nerve or something."

"H-Huh?" In midst her panic, Mia didn't notice his dramatic acting.

"Hmm, and now I seem to be seeing black dots over there." He continued and pointed vaguely into the distance toward the bedroom. "They're...pulsing."

"Okay, enough is enough, Mr. Armando. You go lie on the bed and…I'll call the hospital. Mia's voice was rushed and confused, not knowing how to respond to this very awkward situation.

Still groaning horrendously, he was steered into the other room and settled into bed.

"Feeling slightly better?" She asked him, with a hastily prepared cup of coffee in her hands.

"Mmm…" He mumbled.

"Mr. Amando?"

"Put the coffee down..." He indicated to the bedside table.

She did so and was suddenly dragged by her wrist and onto the bed as well, right next to him.

"Hmm, the black dots seem to have disappeared. You seem to have taken their place, Kitten."

"M-Mr. Armando!" She quickly realised her mistake, and also the fact that she had done so too late. His arm wrapped around her waist and caused her heart to jump to her mouth.

"Well, what do you know…the pain seems to have gone as well."

"M-Mr. Armando, don't you dare!" Mia glared at him and managed to pull free. She leapt from the bed and settled on a stool next to it, her back turned towards him.

"Alright, alright. Lighten up. I was just trying to cheer you up a bit."

"You think…FLIRTING with me would cheer me up?" Mia glared at him.

Fiercely.

A little too fiercely.

Armando's smile vanished as quickly as it had come and his face was suddenly and unnaturally serious.

"Mia Fey. It wasn't your fault that Fawles died. He poisoned himself. And that witch is the only one that should be blamed for it."

"B-But…I could have…"

"Could have what?" He suddenly roared, causing her to jump back a bit in fright.

She had never seen him this angry before. It was always the cocky, arrogant attitude that attracted her to him as a mentor. Not this. Never this angry.

"Could have what…Mia. Answer me that."

"I-I…" She was at a loss for words.

"I'm waiting."

Silence.

"Hmph, I suspected as much." He sat up on his bed and tried his best to straighten his black mane like hair into place.

"Now you go ahead and call the hospital. I may have lied about my nerves malfunctioning but I am still in pain.."

"Mr. Armando…I…"

He held up his bandaged hand.

"Wounded man. Need help. Please."

"R-Right."

"That's my kitten." His smile returned as he reached for the cup of coffee she had brewed for him.

Only to spit out the contents as soon as he took the first sip.

"Kitten! That salt in the coffee thing was only a joke back in court!"

"Wh-what…?"

"You put SALT in my coffee."

"Oh. I did? I THOUGHT that sugar bag had…"

"Sugar? SUGAR in a perfect black blend of…" He suddenly paused to suppress a grin.

…

Silence.

"Oops."

They both burst out laughing.

The first time Mia Fey had laughed in many years.

And one of the last times she ever would.

**End.**


End file.
